Promise of a Lifetime
by Kari Kurofai
Summary: A twincest angst thing. Had to make it for Creative Writing. :P


Promise Of A Lifetime

My first memory was of you. Of us. I remember the steady rhythm of two hearts beating together. Two heartbeats, but they sounded like one. I could hardly tell your's from mine. A steady beating, one that promised life. I wonder when that was. Was it in the crib they must have put us in when we were small? Or was it in the womb. We've been together that long. You. Me. Us. The rest of the world hardly matters.

I wonder why they always insisted on giving us separate beds. At home, in the dorms at school, everywhere. It was a silly thing to do. Night after night, one of us would just end up getting up to crawl into the other's bed. I always pretended to complain. "Hey, stop, you're letting all the cold air under the blankets . . ." But I really didn't mind. The cold you let in always made it easier to be closer to you, an excuse to share warmth. Your body against mine, sleeping soundly curled so tightly together. I wonder if that was what it was like before we were born.

I loved the feeling of your fingers against mine. Hands seemed so useless to us unless they were together with another. And they were the same too. Our fingers the same size, our palms etched with the same lines. And I couldn't tell, but I suspected that maybe our fingerprints were the same as well. I loved tracing the lines on your palms with my fingers, going over them again and again. Knowing them by heart because they were the exact same as mine. I was you, and you were me. Nothing else mattered.

We were exactly the same. Not a mole, scar, or mark out of place. It interested me to see if I could find a single difference. My fingers grazed over every inch of your body in such a possessive manner. Because you were me. "It's the same as yesterday," you'd laugh. But you'd do it too. Every time we were separated, if only for a moment, we'd have to check. Are you still me? Am I still you? Are we still us? I wondered how the rest of the world survived with out feelings like this. And I wondered how I'd ever survive with out you. It was hard being born as only half of myself, As only half of us.

I know we always over reacted when one of us was hurt. But if you were in pain, I'm sure I felt it too. If you cried, I cried as well. It's not that I felt that I had to cry, it's just that I did. How could I not when my other half was hurting? I loved how we'd wipe away each others tears when we were done. "Ah geeze, we're such crybabies," You'd mutter, "boys aren't supposed to cry . . ."

How was it that we always knew what the other was thinking? Sometimes, we could just sit and silence and never say a word, but we didn't have to. Whenever a teacher or some other student annoyed us, we didn't even have to look at each other to know how we'd get them back. That's probably how we got so many detentions. And then more detentions when we told them we couldn't finish our homework because of so many detentions.

I hated detentions. Sometimes, they thought that if they separated us, we'd cause less trouble. Didn't they know that would just piss us off even more? I can't be separated from you, or you from me. We'll go crazy. I hated how furious we'd feel after separate detentions. How we'd push each other angrily onto the bed pressing our fingers across every inch of each other's body, making sure that we were still the same. Making sure every part of us was intact and unharmed. What if anything had happened while we were apart? That was always my worst fear. I wouldn't let anyone touch you, no one but me. And you did the same.

But nightmares always come true, don't they. You told me to stay behind. Why did I listen to you? I should have been there with you!

I curled my fingers into your hair. My other hand running all over your body like it had done so many times before. There were marks all over. Gashes, bruises, nicks and cuts. My right hand gripped the blood soaked cloth at your waist as tears welled in my eyes. How could this have happened, I should have been there. I keep praying and hoping you'll wake up, though I know it's too late. I shiver as I feel your body growing colder and colder against mine. Please don't go. Don't leave me here. But there's no point in begging you to stay. You can't hear my voice any more. You can't feel my thoughts. If I'm you, and you're me, why can't I die too? I wish . . . that I'd been born as your heart. That way, if you died . . . I'd die with you. But then, I wouldn't even be able to touch you. Even so, it'd be better than this. Anything would be better than this.

I let my fingers trace the lines of your hands again and again. They're still the same, why? How can they still be unmarked if you're gone? I twine my fingers with yours, knowing that it will be the last time. The last time we are us. Because from now, I'll be alone. Just me. I'll sleep alone, and never feel your body against mine as I dream again. I'll cry alone, and wipe away my own tears. And if I feel lonely, I'll have to hold my own hand. And the only heartbeat I'll ever hear will be mine. How could you do this to me? Frustrated, I cling to your body tighter. Why? Why, why, why? I know I'll be asking this question for a long time yet to come. And I know that it won't change anything.

But I want to keep asking it. I want ask what kind of god could be this cruel. I want to ask if this was fate that took him from me. I want to know why we were even born if we'd just end up like this. And I ask if there's an afterlife. I never questioned it before. But now, I pray there is one. And as soon as fate lets me, I want to go there. I want to twine my fingers with yours. I want to relish in the warmth of our bodies against each other again. I want to scold you for leaving me behind, and hear your apologetic laugh. I want to trace every line of you, and every line of me over and over, and prove that we've always been one person.

But for now, I cling to your broken body, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. For now, I shiver as your body grows colder with each passing moment, and curse myself for not being with you when it happened. For now, I'll learn to get by as only half of us. I'll listen to the single heart beating inside me, and wish it would stop.

RANDOM AUTHOR RAMBLE

hehehehe..... i wrote this for a creative writing class, that's why no names or anything were mentioned. i initially just wanted to write about twins. and one twin being dead. (tears and sadness) and then it accidently turned into a fredxgeorge ficy...oopsies... *thumbs up* for tiwncest!! *gets shot*


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